whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Lawrence Dimick would be right on the money with that call.]

This early?

[Freddy asks yet with a hint of his own exhaustion. It's been a rough time from meeting unwanted faces to wanting a certain face all over his own. It smells like sex, weed, and booze, all theirs. At least he's far past the puking his guts out stage. Up he goes, arms on Larry for his own support.]

Lead the way. [No carrying today, Dimmy, but he will lean against the old man.]

I'm lazy.

[He says. Little lies.]

And we can order something later.

[When the munchies hit. And of course provided if anyone sleeps they wake. Arms are on him gladly. Ain't it nice to walk through the house in the nude.]

Besides after that I don't want nobody hurting because of the floor.

[Freddy or the old man. Leading and pawing a bit here, a bit there. Moving makes him realize he's still high. Heh.]

Know why I like sleeping in your bed?

Fine, fine.

[Freddy concedes without a fight. He's too worn out and comfortable under this thick naked arm to argue. Besides, it's a good idea that Larry has. The kid snakes his own freckled wiry arm around his broad waist.]

Why?

Because it smells like you for one. [No brainer there.]

And I kinda feel like the bookshelves make it warmer in here or something.

[Bookshelves. Well, all those comics. Larry doesn't have much shelving at all. Could it be that in his own round about way he's grown accustom to the museum of plastic?

Man oh man does it feel great to be touched on. Nothing doing.

To the bed with you, Newendyke. No he isn't gonna pull back the covers or anything. The movie can stay rolling in the living room. There's more important things to focus on. Freddy is sufficiently distracted. The old man's gotta go with it.]

It smells like you too, you know.

[In his bed. It's why he doesn't wash the sheets as often as a meticulous person would. He likes being able to lay down and smell a bit of Chesterfield on the fabric, Larry's favorite aftershave, even the smell of the shampoo he uses or the occasional hairdye if he's still keeping up that routine. When the old man ain't around it reminds him the old man sure don't mind coming into his den of comic books and toys. Mr. White met Mr. Orange but he came to know Freddy Newendyke too. Those shelves are exactly that, the man he was before he put on a leather jacket and took a codename.]

I think that's the way the sun hits the windows.

[He teases, knowing Larry likes the enchantment of such words but Freddy has to do his part by being Freddy too. Demystifying romance while perpetuating the myth of the superhero. Oof, down they go on his bed.]

I can't smell nothing.

[Ain't that always the way? What's so great about all of those smells when it could be soap and Marlboros.]

You smell pretty nice. Now and then. [Right now it's a potent cologne. Onto the bed and laying on him half way. Lazy bear wrestling move of effectiveness.]

Right now though it's kinda like some kinda one night motel.

[Paws are getting handsy again. Recovery time is over.]

With a nose like that?

[Freddy quips, one hundred percent aware of the irony of him making a nose joke. Fff. That bear snout knows how to move though, finding sweetness and meat in all the right places. Oof, he doesn't mind being partially crushed by Lawrence Dimick. As a matter of fact the old man makes a very good living blanket.]

You callin' my place a dump?

[He asks, wanting to hear what old Dimmy has to say now. Oh hey, paws. They're kind of rubbing all over him and he's liking it. Freddy shifts to give him access to all the places where he might find some honey. He's not yet fully aware those hands may be aiming to milk him a second time.]

Gotta be good for something, right? I mean. It's big enough.

[More irony that he calls his own nose big. Right about now it's buried into Freddy's neck. Flopped onto his bed and covers he's making sure he's not pancaking the kid while he's snuffling around.]

Nah. Too much organization.

[Even though he's not hard any more and still lube slick he rubs on up against Freddy. The sheets will need to be washed after this one. It's the nature of the beast.

Since he's fixed there at his pulse Larry decides to give him a hickey. Or at least try to. Why? Because it does give the kid swagger, he's seen it.]

Very funny.

[They sure do need to be washed after this but he'll still put it off until maybe Larry gets too tired of seeing them there then washing them himself. Hah. Oh but that rubbing and snuffling sure feels good. Freddy's reaching back to Larry's thigh again, insisting they stay flush up against each other even when there's no cock squeezing into his ass. He'll gladly accept being marked too, no matter how much getting a hickey makes him think of being a stupid teenager again. It does induce a little swagger.]

[Playing right on into those big mitts.]

Ain't that one of the things you love about me?

[Greedy and distracting comments...are things he's not above. Larry rolls onto his side to give Freddy more room. Also to creep his hand on down his belly. It is still going.

Blonde is at large. They can't take any chances. It's dirty and downright sneaky to try and make sure he's completely fucked out of his mind but... it did wonder to his nerves the last time. He has to do something. Sitting around and making small preemptive plans sure don't make things less of a worry. At least when they're like this there is progress.

All for Freddy he thinks. That's a lie too. The old man is recovering in his own way. What if Blonde put a bullet in his brain right there. How would he have found out? Would there have been a way? There's a slim to none chance that it wouldn't kill him. And if it did, what would they do then? He'd be walkin' around deceased. According to the senior members of this weirdo Club Med you don't get to return from wherever you had been if you die.

His man, Freddy Newendyke, dead? No. Anything but.]

Ain't you gonna kiss me?

I put up with it.

[Freddy teases, body conforming to fit perfectly with Larry's even if that might make him the little spoon or whatever people call it. He's arching his hips into his touch, shoulder against his chin. Kiss him, he says. The kid turns his head slightly, enough to give the old man a narrowed green look. Then he's tilting his own head to kiss him. Freddy's feeling pretty mellowed out, tired, exhausted, but his mind is still alert. They have to be with mad men out there.]

Some fucking prince you are.

[The little soon gets big benefits. He's taking a grip on the kid's dick again. This time not to suck him off but work out whatever he's got left. Like cocking a shotgun again and again. Except now he's gotta calm down, not get too into it too soon.]

You put up with so much, I know.

[...He's going to wash these sheets the first chance he gets. Really.]

Shit....

[He'd tell the old man it's not necessary, that he's fine, that he doesn't need a second round, but far be it for the kid to refuse a handjob.]

You too, man.

[Freddy insists under a low sigh. He's feeling almost too sensitive between the legs so it's good that the paw on him is taking its time.]

[Give and take. That's how it goes. Honestly, is there anything so bad that he deals with from Freddy that's worth walking away? Nothing comes to mind. Their highs are so fucking high. Makes a fella forget what was so bad about the lows.

Larry is the first man he's had a serious relationship with. One year and counting. How did they get so lucky? What is truly the catch? If he only knew.

Foreskin glides in his palm. He keeps his face close to Freddy's. Thus is the nature of spoons.]

Good thing the sex is so good.

[Chuckling as he keeps at it.]

[It's a strong neither too loose nor too tight foreskin. It's comfortable as it is and he's glad to be an uncut man. Not to say that being cut is a disappointment either because damn does Lawrence Dimick prove otherwise. He's well hung and it shows without having to pull back a thing. Ahem.]

No argument there...

[Huff. He's getting hard. Freddy curls up a little more, almost like a teenager trying to hide his masturbation habit under the covers. Except they're bare out in the open in their own home. His first real home with someone else, his first intimate relationship with another man, his first true test of moral character because he's a cop and he's a crook.]

You're gonna kill me...

[Freddy whispers, hyperbole really because he's already sensitive and these strokes are getting him right where it--well, doesn't hurt, but it's definitely got his blood pumping.]

]Perfect would be a word for his proportion. Some fellas his size are smaller, and rare cases some are hung like a horse. Freddy's got a terrific standard issue. Excellent to hold, even better to hold internally. That's how Lawrence Dimick knows he's bent is because he truly, honestly admires this man's dick.

A cop and a crook living together that's complicated enough without the rest added in that they have. They're homos, they're on the run and hiding from a fella that knows him only they're not sure whether or not he means to do em harm. Then that relationship bit. Then the old man's history with substance abuse. Then their age difference. Fuck it all.

Faster, slower, he can feel him swell and harden under his fingers.]

You don't want me to stop do you?

[Lips press a kiss to his shoulder. Larry's curling right on with him. Masturbating among teenage boys seldom was under the covers, well, if it was meant to remain a platonic act of masculine bonding.]

No. I don't want you to stop.

[Freddy's shaking his head, not too much so Larry can have space to kiss him on his bare freckled shoulder. Fuck he's so comfortable, so comforting. What would you do without him, Newendyke? If it weren't for Mr. White he might very well still be in the closet and still living out a fucking lie even though it took a lie to get them to meet at all. Shit works out in mysterious ways.]

Jerk me off, tough guy.

[He breathes, thighs tensing to grind a little with that big old hand on his proportionately sizable cock.]

[Look how right he was. Just what the doctor ordered, or would have ordered for. He takes his unoccupied hand and lifts it enough so he can spit into it. Now he'll swap hands, the slick of saliva always makes it feel better. Who knows if Freddy's cum has dried from last time. Even if it did, the man needs more to work with.

Where would the old man be? Fooling himself into thinking that each job is the last job. And he would still be a rambling man getting his jollies where he might knowing that it ain't safe to stay still too long. Creature of habit that he is, he'd have stay in LA until he grew tired of it. Who knows where he would be next, because he sure didn't.]

Rub one out for you before somebody forgets to knock and you get in trouble.

[Playing on the thought of whacking off, of acting like teenagers.]

[Saliva slick hand on his firm prick gets another shudder from Freddy Newendyke.] I'd get in trouble--for being in bed with a career man like you...skipped college, went straight to work. You're too old for me.

[Pretty much the same age as his parents. That's never really bothered him though, Larry being as old. He never watched Freddy grow up, never took care of him, never watched a dumb boy make dumb mistakes or turn into a grown man. It's just a harmless fantasy, pretending he's a thirty-something year old man helping a teenager jerk off in his own bed. It worries him more that one day Larry might realize what an inexperienced idiot Freddy Newendyke is when it comes to being a grown man in a grown up relationship. So far so good. He reaches back, perhaps limbs tangling, to grip White's ass.]

You know what you want.

[Always. Regardless. Freddy's a grown man right now. And he may have teenage tastes but he knows deep down what he wants. It's been a battle to get there and here they are. No looking back.

As a fantasy he has to smile.]

College wasn't for me. All I want is to make a life and support my baby as he goes to academy.

[Or college. Who says they gotta stick to the script? Don't be mad kid. Harmless fantasy indeed.]

Don't matter which bed I'm in. They might say I'm no good one way or the other. That's not gonna keep me away. I'd come on into your room to hold you tight and make you warm.

[A young kid's dream, a parent's nightmare.]

[You'd never, he thinks to himself, completely unconvinced even in fantasy that Larry would help put him through the academy. But that's okay because he's a cop now and he was a cop when they met. Academy's unnecessary in fantasy because Mr. White has to contend with the reality that Orange carries a badge. He won't argue him though, let Larry do what he thinks will help make Freddy feel good. The kid's enchanted by that alone.]

I'd keep my windows unlocked.

[He promises, tongue slipping out to wet his lips now. Fuck he's getting there, precum is beading at the tip of his cock, not much since he leaked out most of it downstairs but he is wet.]

Let you in...beg you to teach me how to get fucked. [You like the sound of that, Dimmy?]

[He's a crooked man in his way. That's why they call em crooks. Something in his head or heart or whatever wasn't made to follow the law. He can't make a 100% honest living. The system is shit, it fucks people over. In some perfect, fantastical world that only exists with some imagination, he can be an upstanding member of society.]

I can't resist, man. Not with a body like yours. We'd have to be careful with your folks sleeping. I'd have to gag you. And to make sure you're not walking too funny I'd have to open you up with my fingers each time. Especially the first. One tight, sweet cherry.

[He spreads around that precum, using it like lube to keep the kid slick. It's not how much is left but how he uses it.]

You're dirty.

[Freddy accuses, one hundred percent aware the remark's coming from his own filthy mouth. Huff puff. He's getting closer to orgasm, he's pretty sure. Open him up with his fingers, he says? Tight sweet cherry ass huh?]

Kinda how--[Huff.]--I gotta pry you open?

[Heh heh heh. How's that for mouthing off in the dirtiest way? The old man's not so cock-hungry ass is fair game in this kid's book.]

I'm telling you the truth.

[Which is altogether dirty and unacceptable for all audiences. With the life they lead no one should be surprised.]

Uh huh. Like that baby. Nobody spreads me open and fucks me like you.

[...should there be an after chances are there will be no one else for that matter.]

Would you fuck me in your bedroom, huh? Show me what you've learned?

[The kid's hips are working a little harder against his fist, effectively fucking it.]

Uh huh...Spread your ass right on my floor. Fit my dick in you. [Not because Freddy's lower to the ground either, fff. He's got to press his face into the pillow now where he makes another damp spot. Saliva stuff. Orange groans.] Shit...

[His orgasm isn't as sudden this time. More like a slow release from the faucet, thinner cum spilling over Larry's fingers instead of shooting all over the covers.]

But I ain't no madman.

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